


Mark of Cain

by ZydrateNote



Category: Starfighter (Comic), Supernatural
Genre: Abel is injured, Agression, Cain gets the mark of cain, Cross Over, Eventual Sex, Hospital, Hospitalization, M/M, Mark of Cain, Stitches, Violence, cabel, caibel, excessive force, mark of Cain starfighter, poor abel, protective cain
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-16
Updated: 2015-07-30
Packaged: 2018-04-09 16:55:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4357031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZydrateNote/pseuds/ZydrateNote
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Fighter's job is to protect their Navigator at any cost.  With Cain's protective nature, no slip ups will do  In order to defend Abel, he takes on the Mark of Cain and with it Cain's mantle to get stronger.<br/>((Cain gets the Mark of Cain.))</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1

     "C-Cain-"  Abel's voice breaks as his fingers scrabble desperately at the armored hand around his throat.  The Colteron holding him slams his body back against the wall.  He whimpers, eyes half closing, blood dripping from his mouth.  

     "ABEL!  YOU-"  Cain's face smashes against the floor, the foot of another Colteron soldier pressing hard between his shoulder blades.  He groans and struggles to push himself up, arms shaking with strain.  The Colteron pinning him clicks its pincers menacingly, its fellow bringing a serrated claw to Abel's stomach.  The Navigator’s eyes fill with fear, his low whines becoming audible.

     "C-Cain-...  P-please-"  He screams in pain, the claw digging in a dragging across his stomach.  The sound, so full of anguish, makes Cain flinch.  Blood gushes from the wound, staining the starkly white uniform and splattering the grimy floor.  The claw comes away tinged in red, strips of flesh caught in its spines.  Abel’s hands drop uselessly to his sides.

     "NO!"  Cain's arms give out, unable to lift himself from under the weight of the Colteron's boot.  “ABEL!”  He stares up at Abel helplessly, eyes wide, the spattered blood the only color in the navigator’s pale face.  

     Two blasts sound from behind them.   The bolts from the blaster light the dark space, connecting with the weak points in the Colterons' armor.  Abel drops to the ground from the soldier's slack grip, breathing shallow and ragged.  Both Colteron slump forward.  Cain extricates himself from the fallen mass of armor and black exoskeleton to kneel beside Abel.

     "Abel?"  He pulls him into his lap.  “Abel!”  Abel's head lolls back, eyes glassy.  Cain shakes him lightly. "Wake up.  P-please, wake up.  I-"

     "There isn't time for this."  Praxis says curtly.  He steps over the felled Colteron, stowing his blaster to stand over Cain.  "We need to get out of here before more show up.  I'm not hanging around here and dying because you aren't strong enough to protect your Navigator."

     Cain growls and draws Abel into his arms, cradling him against his chest.  "Go then!  I don't see you guarding Ethos."

     He glowers down at Cain. "That's because I'm not stupid enough to bring a Navi into a war zone.  We’re expendable, they’re not.  It’s our job to defend them to the last.  Though I suppose you don’t really care.  You’ll just get another weak recruit to use as your slut."

     Cain stands furiously, advancing on Praxis.  "Fuck off, you-"

     Their coms crackle to life, interrupting him.  " _Reliant, Tiberius.  Evacuate now.  The rest of the fleet has already taken off.  Reliant?  Can you fly without your Navigator?_ "

     Cain sets his face back into a grimace.  “Y-yes.  I’ll have to.  He isn’t moving-”

     “ _THEN GO!_ ”

     Praxis and Cain tear down the corridor, dust and rubble choking the air.  Their ships rest in the loading bay of the Colteron ship, the final two remaining from the insertions team.  Bodies of Fighters, Navigators, and Colteron litter the floor surrounding the ships, viscera strewn about them.  Ethos opens the top hatch of the Tiberius for Praxis to dart in.  Cain flips Abel over his shoulder and climbs to the hatch of his own ship.  He lowers Abel in first then crawls to the Navigator’s seat, placing his hands on the controls.  He glances back at Abel, crumpled in the space normally occupied by Cain, blood pooling in his lap.

     “I’ll get you back safe, Abel.”

___

**  
**

     The bland white of Medical Bay with its harsh florescent lights and impersonal machinery is more frightening to Cain than the desolate Colteron ship.  He remains sitting at Abel’s bedside despite the Medical Officer’s frequent warnings to leave.  He doesn’t trust the cold and clinical way they assess the damage.  Their probing apparatuses and incomprehensible jargon set him on edge.  When they had removed Abel’s jacket to see the gash in his torso, Cain’s grip on his chair had left his hands bloodless.  He had held himself back from tearing the harsh hands away from Abel’s fragile chest, ashen from loss of blood.  

     On the battlefield, Cain had some level of control.  He knows when to duck and when to charge.  He knows how to fire at that one vulnerable chink in the Colteron’s armor with deft accuracy.  Over his months of training with Abel he learned how to shield him from harm as well.  Abel became an extension of himself, easy to maneuver and defend.  Finding cover meant protecting himself and curling around Abel.  Fighting meant keeping his body in motion while Abel stayed at his back.  Their comfort in combat together allowed for more dangerous missions.  

     With death a blast away, Cain felt at home.  This room that reeked of antiseptic reduced Cain to his thoughts, stripping him of power.  There was nothing to fight here.  The hands that clutched at Abel, covered in his blood, were there to help.  The sharp instruments that jabbed into his skin were to repair the effects of war.  This place rendered a Fighter worthless.

     When the last of the medics finished, they draped a thin sheet over Abel to cover the bandages wrapped around his torso.  The thin section wrapped around his head makes his hair stick up.  Cain smiles weakly.

 _At least he’s alive._  He thinks. _It’s my fucking fault that he’s here.  My only job is to protect him.  The Navigators are the important part of the team. Command makes such a big fucking deal about how important interdependence is, but it’s bullshit.  You can throw any brainless guy a blaster and tell him to kill. But the Navigators…  But Abel…_

     “I’m so sorry, Abel.”  He whispers.  “I’m sorry I’m not strong enough to take care of you.”

     Abel turns his head and mumbles softly, still unconscious.  Cain lays his hand over Abel’s own thin one.  He pushes Abel’s hair back.

     “You’ll be ok.  I promise I’ll protect you.”

___

     Cain had never been in these halls before.  They look so pristine, so elegant, the heavy sounds of his footfalls seem cruel and out of place.  A set of double doors wait before him.  He hesitates, steadying his breathing.  Mother was to advise Command, not to help lowly Fighters who can’t protect their Navigators.  The Oracle who aided the Alliance doesn’t provide visiting hours.  He squares his shoulders and pushes open the doors.  

     A woman in a white wrap stands with her back to him.  Her slim form shifts slightly at his entrance.  

     “Cain.”  It’s not a question.  Her voice is clear and open, filling the chamber.

     “How do you-”

     “I am Mother.  I see everything.”  She turns to face him.  Her regal face holds an ethereal beauty.  Her eyes are deep and foreboding.  They give the impression of an immense power lurking within them.

     “Then you know why I’m here.”  He says gruffly.

     “Your intentions aren’t clear.”

     Cain growls.  “I need to be stronger.  I need to protect Abel at any cost.”

     “Any cost?”  She looks into his eyes, stepping towards him.  “Are you aware of where your task name comes from?”

     “What the hell does that have to do with-”

     “The name Cain is from the Bible.  He was the first son of Adam and Eve.”

     “So?"

     “So he has a reputation.  He was least liked by God, who preferred his brother Abel.”

     “A-Abel?”

     “And from him comes the Mark of Cain.  It made him strong.  It enhanced his aggression, his power.  Unfortunately, he-”

     Cain jerks his head up.  “Give me the Mark.”

     “Let me finish the story, Cain.  You may not like the end-”

     “I don't care!”  Cain glares at her.  “I said at any cost.  I need to be stronger for him.”

     "For Abel?"  She smiles slightly. “Are you sure?”

     Cain nods.  "I'm his Fighter."

     “Very well.  Give me your arm.”

     He holds out his arm.  Mother wraps her slender fingers around his wrist.  Coils of red shoot up his veins.  He cries out in pain, trying to pull away.  Mother’s eyes glow as a brand sears itself into the skin of Cain’s forearm.

     “Unfortunately, all his aggression and power built.  He became more violent."  She releases him, looking into his eyes, smile still lingering on her face.  “He became the first murderer after slaughtering Abel.”

 

_To be continued..._

****  
  


 


	2. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Really.” He leans down close to Abel’s ear, pressing his mouth against it, lowering his voice. “Because you should know by now that I quite like scars.” He runs his thumb over the scar on Abel’s lip.

_“Unfortunately, all his aggression and power built.  He became more violent."  She releases him, looking into his eyes, smile still lingering on her face.  “He became the first murderer after slaughtering Abel.”_

__

    “What?” He growls, throwing her back.  He clutches his arm to his chest.  “WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO?”

    “Exactly what you asked me to.  I gave you the Mark.  Don’t you feel stronger?”  She smiles, eyes dimming.  “Can’t you feel all that blind aggression coiling, building up…  Who knows when it will spill over.  It doesn’t matter really.  Cain’s story always ends the same.”

    “WHAT?”

    “Didn’t you listen?  All you fighters are so stupid.”  She steps closer to him, looking up at him, smirking.  Her words draw together.  “I see now why you’re on your third Navigator.  Who could have guessed you were so eager for number four.”

    “Get the fuck away from me!”  Cain backs toward the doors.  Mother sweeps after him.

    “What?  Having regrets?  You wanted strength, did you not?”

    “I wanted to protect him!  It’s my job to protect Abel!”

    “Is that why you’re plotting with Bering?”

    “I-”

    The doors behind Cain open.

    “Get out of here, Fighter.  It’s your problem if you’re too weak.”

___

    “There you are.  He’s been asking for you.”  The Medical Officer sets down his clipboard and nods at Cain.  “He’s in the bed at the end.  It’s funny; I’m more used to seeing you in here.”

    “I- right.”  Cain brushes past the MO, tugging his sleeve farther down.  He lopes over to Abel’s bed and sits down.

     _He looks so peaceful when he’s asleep.  No stress, no fear.  Just…  Calm.  Almost happy._  Cain smiles softly and touches Abel’s shoulder.  Abel flinches, eyes shooting open.

    “N-no!”  He sits straight up, breathing heavily.  

    “Hey, you’re alright.”  He brushes Abel’s hair off his forehead.  “It’s me.”

    “C-Cain?”  He looks wide-eyed at Cain.  “S-sorry.  I-”

    “It’s ok.  I understand.”  He helps Abel lay back down.  He eyes the tubes in Abel’s arm.  “How do you feel?”

    “I just feel weak.  I’m not in pain.  The MO said everything is healing well.  He says I’ll have some scarring, but no lasting damage.”  He looks down.

    “Well that’s positive.”

    “I guess.”

    Cain scoffs.  “What?  Are you worried about the scar?”

    “What?  No!”  Abel blushes.  “I’m not that petty!”

    “Really.”  He leans down close to Abel’s ear, pressing his mouth against it, lowering his voice.  “Because you should know by now that I quite like scars.”  He runs his thumb over the scar on Abel’s lip.  Abel squeaks and opens his mouth slightly.  Cain bites his earlobe lightly and leans back smirking.  “Good boy.”

    “Don’t do that here!”

    “Why not?  You’re obviously enjoying it.”  He leans back over Abel.  In his movement, his sleeve rolls to expose the Mark burned onto his skin.

    “What’s that?”

    “What’s- I-  Nothing.  It’s just from a ‘Teron.”  He shifts nervously.

    “Cain-”

    “I said it’s nothing, ok?  Drop it.”  He glares down at Abel.

    “I’m sorry…”  He starts to sit up then cries out in pain, hand jerking towards his torso.  A spot of blood seeps through the thin hospital shirt, staining his fingers.

    “Move!”  The MO shoves Cain out of the way and leans Abel back.  He pulls open the shirt revealing a sewn scar wrapped around Abel’s hips.  A section of the stitches are ripped, blood leaking from the gash.  Abel whimpers, trying to pull away from the MO’s grip.

    “What’s going on?  You’re hurting him-”  Cain tries to move back to the bed.

    “You need to leave.  We’re trying to help.”  Says the MO.

    A tech stretches out Abel’s arm, sticking a syringe into it and pressing down the plunger.  Abel’s struggling becomes feeble.

    “C-Cain-”  His eyes close.

    Cain reaches for him.  The tech presses her hands to his shoulders.  “Stop.  Let the MO work.”

    “Get off of him.”  Cain growls.

    “What is the deal with you Fighters-”

    “I said, get off of him.”  He shoves her to the floor and keeping moving forward, stepping on her hand.  She screams in pain, kicking out her leg.  A table layered in tools topples over.  The tech scrabbles to seize another syringe from it.  She jabs it into the back of Cain’s knee.  

    He staggers, vision going hazy.  He lurches forward to cling to the footboard of Abel’s bed.  His thoughts swirl together.   _Can’t you feel all that blind aggression?_  He shakes his head, trying to clear the echoes of Mother's voice.   _I see now why you’re on your third Navigator._  Cain grits his teeth, trying to stand.  He collapses to the hospital floor, the insistent beeping of machines fading in his ears.   _After slaughtering Abel…_

_To be continued..._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm aware that this chapter is pretty short. There's a lot that's left to happen and it makes more sense broken up like this.


	3. 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’m sorry I got you hurt. I should have-”  
>  “Cain-”  
>  “It’s my job to protect you-”  
>  “CAIN. You’re hurting me.”

_He staggers, vision going hazy.  He lurches forward to cling to the footboard of Abel’s bed.  His thoughts swirl together.  Can’t you feel all that blind aggression?  He shakes his head, trying to clear out the black around the edges of his vision.  I see now why you’re on your third Navigator.  Cain grits his teeth, trying to stand.  He collapses to the hospital floor, the insistent beeping of machines fading in his ears.  After slaughtering Abel…_

__

    Cain doesn’t immediately open his eyes when he wakes up, choosing instead to listen to a familiar voice coming from nearby.  The sedative still in his system muffles the world around him.

    “-That’s really not necessary.  I’-m”

    “You’re lucky you didn’t get more hurt.  Your Fighter is more concerned with fucking you than protecting you.  I would-”

    “Praxis, that’s none of your business.  Thank you for saving us but-”

    “Abel, I warned you about him.  If I were your Fighter-”

    “But you’re not, Praxis.”

    “You need someone stronger than him.  Someone who can actually do their job.”

    “Y-you’re hurting me.”

    Cain’s eyes shoot open.  He turns his head to see Praxis hunched over Abel’s bed, gripping the front of his shirt.  “Get off of him!”  He lunges to get up and freezes.  His wrists, chest, and ankles are strapped to the bed.  “What the fuck is this?”

    Praxis drops Abel and strides over to Cain’s bedside.  “The tech said you were getting a little too handsy for her liking.  So, she drugged you and strapped you down here.  To keep you out of trouble.”

    Cain growls.  

    Abel sits up.  “Praxis, back off.  Leave him alone.”  He stands shakily, stepping forward.  “You’re not part of this.  I don’t know why you feel entitled to our private lives.”

    “I-...”  Praxis shuffles back from the bedside.  He half smirks, backing towards the door.  “You really are weak, Cain.  Needing a Navigator to protect you.”

    “Go, Praxis.  Ethos will be missing you.”

    Praxis leaves the bay, making Cain smile.  “That’a boy.”

    Abel moves towards Cain’s bed on unsteady legs.  “How do you feel?”

    “Heavy.  Whatever drugs they got in this place are fucking great.”

    “Oh, please don’t add them to the cigarettes.”  He starts to untie Cain’s wrists.  “I can’t deal with-”  He staggers, legs giving out.  Abel crashes to the floor, head hitting the ground.

    “Abel!”  He quickly undoes the rest of the straps and kneels next to Abel.  He pulls him into a sitting position.  Abel looks dazed, a stream of blood trickling from his forehead.  “W-we need help over here.”

___

    It had been weeks of late nights bathed in bland light.  Of meals taken in a room that reeked of pain and medicine.  Weeks of no control, nothing to fight.  The medical bay had kept him helpless.  What had been declared an easy recovery was anything but.  After Abel’s fall, he was put under constant observation to ensure he didn’t try to stand again.  Over his period of inactivity, Abel’s limbs became more frail.  His ribcage showed through his skin, his bony fingers shook when asked to hold something.  He looked emaciated despite the MO’s constant reassurances that he was healing just fine.  Seeing Abel in such a state didn’t help quell the storm brewing in Cain’s head.  He had become obsessed with the Mark on his arm.  The weeks of waiting had been laced with pent up aggression and furious outbursts.  Cain’s knuckles were coated in scabs and bruises, lingering marks from the walls of his cabin and the edge of Deimos’s jaw.

    “He should be able to leave today.”  The MO’s voice raises Cain from his shallow sleep, arms crossed on Abel’s bed.  “All he’ll need is some physical training to get back in shape and possible a few visits with a therapist.”

    “What’s he need a shrink for?”

    “Your Navigator experienced serious trauma.  He can’t be expected to just bounce back from that.  He’ll have some symptoms.”

    “Great.  Just fantastic.  You’re giving me back a broken Navi-”

    “I’m not broken, Cain.”  Abel’s voice comes low, his eyes only half open.

    “I didn’t mean that-”

    “Yes you did.”

    “No.  Abel, I-”

    The MO steps between Cain and the bed.  “He needs rest.  Either take him back to your barrack or leave him be.”

    Abel stands unsteadily, reaching out for Cain who loops his arm around his waist to support him.  

    “Are you-”

    “I’m fine.”  Abel snaps.

    Cain helps him out of the Med Bay and into the hallway.  He walks slowly letting Abel take tentative steps.

    “I didn’t mean that, you know.  I just…  I’ve been worried.  In there, there’s nothing I can do.  I can’t help you or protect you.  I’m useless there-”

    “Cain-”

    “I’m sorry I got you hurt.  I should have-”

    “Cain-”

    “It’s my job to protect you-”

    “CAIN.  You’re hurting me.”  He tries to pull out of Cain’s grip, having gotten tighter as he talked.

    “S-sorry!”  He loosens his grasp.  “See!  I-”

    “It’s not your fault.  None of that is your fault.”

    “But-”

    “Shhhh.”  He leans up and kisses Cain.  “Stop it.  You’re being ridiculous.  Just take me back to the bunk.  You can make it up to me there.”

    Cain sweeps Abel up into his arms, kissing his neck.  “Fine.  But I am taking full advantage of you needing to lean on me.  Deal?”

    “I expected no less.”

_To Be Continued..._


End file.
